which the relations had lived, since the opposition of the Whigs to KingWilliam's government in some degree united that party in conduct, thoughnot in motive, with the favourers of King James. Yet our author's strainof politics, as at first expressed in the epistle, was too severe forhis cousin's digestion. Some reflections upon the Dutch allies, andtheir behaviour in the war, were omitted, as tending to reflect uponKing William; and the whole piece, to avoid the least chance of givingoffence, was subjected to the revision of Montague, with a deprecationof his displeasure, an entreaty of his patronage, and the humiliatingoffer, that, although repeated correction had already purged the spiritout of the poem, nothing should stand in it relating to public affairs.without Mr. Montague's permission. What answer "full-blown Bufo"returned to Dryden's petition, does not appear; but the author'sopposition principles were so deeply woven in with the piece, that theycould not be obliterated without tearing it to pieces. His model of anEnglish member of parliament votes in opposition, as his Good Parson isa nonjuror, and the Fox in the fable of Old Chaucer is translated into apuritan.[41] The epistle was highly acceptable to Mr. Driden ofChesterton, who acknowledged the immortality conferred on him, by "anoble present," which family tradition states to have amounted toL500.[42] Neither did Dryden neglect so fair an opportunity to avengehimself on his personal, as well as his political adversaries. Milbourneand Blackmore receive in the epistle severe chastisement for theirassaults upon his poetry and private character:

"What help from art's endeavours can we have? Guibbons but guesses, nor is sure to save; But Maurus sweeps whole parishes, and peoples every grave, And no more mercy to mankind will use Than when he robbed and murdered Maro's muse. Wouldst thou be soon despatched, and perish whole, Trust Maurus with thy life, and Milbourne with thy soul"

Referring to another place, what occurs upon the style and execution ofthe Fables, I have only to add, that they were published early in spring1700, in a large folio, and with the "Ode to Saint Cecilia." The epistleto Driden of Chesterton, and a translation of the first Iliad, must havemove than satisfied the mercantile calculations of Tonson, since theycontained seventeen hundred verses above the quantity which Dryden hadcontracted to deliver. In the preface, the author vindicates himselfwith great spirit against his literary adversaries; makes his usualstrong and forcible remarks on the genius of the authors whom he hadimitated; and, in this his last critical work, shows all the acumenwhich had so long distinguished his powers. The Fables were dedicated tothe last Duke of Ormond, the grandson of the Barzillai of "Absalom andAchitophel," and the son of the heroic Earl of Ossory; friends both, andpatrons of Dryden's earlier essays. There is something affecting in aconnection so honourably maintained; and the sentiment, as touched byDryden, is simply pathetic. "I am not vain enough to boast, that I havedeserved the value of so illustrious a line; but my fortune is thegreater, that for three descents they have been pleased to distinguishmy poems from those of other men; and have accordingly made me theirpeculiar care. May it be permitted me to say, that as your grandfatherand father were cherished monarchs, so I have been esteemed andpatronised by the grandfather, the father, and the son, descended fromone of the most ancient, most conspicuous, and most deserving familiesin Europe."

There were also prefixed to the "Fables," those introductory versesaddressed to the beautiful Duchess of Ormond,[43] which have all theeasy, felicitous, and sprightly gallantry, demanded on such occasions.The incense, it is said, was acknowledged by a present of L500; adonation worthy of the splendid house of Ormond. The sale of the"Fables" was surprisingly slow: even the death of the author, which hasoften sped away a lingering impression, does not seem to have increasedthe demand; and the second edition was not printed till 1713, when,Dryden and all his immediate descendants being no more, the sumstipulated upon that event was paid by Tonson to Lady Sylvius, daughterof one of Lady Elizabeth Dryden's brothers, for the benefit of hiswidow, then in a state of lunacy.--See Appendix, vol. xviii.

The end of Dryden's labours was now fast approaching; and, as his careerbegan upon the stage, it was in some degree doomed to terminate there.It is true, he never recalled his resolution to write no more plays; butVanbrugh having about this time revised and altered for the Drury-lanetheatre, Fletcher's lively comedy of "The Pilgrim," it was agreed thatDryden, or, as one account says, his son Charles,[44] should have theprofits of a third night on condition of adding to the piece a SecularMasque, adapted to the supposed termination of the seventeenthcentury;[45] a Dialogue in the Madhouse between two Distracted Lovers;and a Prologue and Epilogue. The Secular Masque contains a beautiful andspirited delineation of the reigns of James I., Charles I., and CharlesII., in which the influence of Diana, Mars, and Venus, are supposed tohave respectively predominated. Our author did not venture to assign apatron to the last years of the century, though the expulsion of Saturnmight have given a hint for it. The music of the Masque is said to havebeen good; at least it is admired by the eccentric author of JohnBuncle.[46] The Prologue and Epilogue to "The Pilgrim," were writtenwithin twenty days of Dryden's death; [47] and their spirit equals thatof any of his satirical compositions. They afford us the less pleasingconviction, that even the last fortnight of Dryden's life was occupiedin repelling or retorting the venomed attacks of his literary foes. Inthe Prologue, he gives Blackmore a drubbing which would have annihilatedany author of ordinary modesty; but the knight[48] was as remarkable forhis powers of endurance, as some modern pugilists are said to be, forthe quality technically called _bottom_. After having been "brayed in amortar," as Solomon expresses it, by every wit of his time, Sir Richardnot only survived to commit new offences against ink and paper, but hadhis faction, his admirers, and his panegyrists, among that numerous andsober class of readers, who think that genius consists in goodintention.[49] In the Epilogue, Dryden attacks Collier, but with morecourteous weapons: it is rather a palliation than a defence of dramaticimmorality, and contains nothing personally offensive to Collier. Thusso dearly was Dryden's preeminent reputation purchased, that even hislast hours were embittered with controversy; and nature, over-watchedand worn out, was, like a besieged garrison, forced to obey the call toarms, and defend reputation even with the very last exertion of thevital spirit.

The approach of death was not, however, so gradual as might have beenexpected from the poet's chronic diseases. He had long suffered both bythe gout and gravel, and more lately the erysipelas seized one of hislegs. To a shattered frame and a corpulent habit, the most triflingaccident is often fatal. A slight inflammation in one of his toes,became, from neglect, a gangrene. Mr. Hobbes, an eminent surgeon, toprevent mortification, proposed to amputate the limb; but Dryden, whohad no reason to be in love with life, refused the chance of prolongingit by a doubtful and painful operation.[50] After a short interval, thecatastrophe expected by Mr. Hobbes took place, and, Dryden not longsurviving the consequences, left life on Wednesday morning, 1st May1700, at three o'clock. He seems to have been sensible till nearly hislast moments, and died in the Roman Catholic faith, with submission andentire resignation to the divine will; "taking of his friends," saysMrs. Creed, one of the sorrowful number, "so tender and obliging afarewell, as none but he himself could have expressed."

The death of a man like Dryden, especially in narrow and neglectedcircumstances, is usually an alarum-bell to the public. Unavailing andmutual reproaches, for unthankful and pitiless negligence, wastethemselves in newspaper paragraphs, elegies, and funeral processions;the debt to genius is then deemed discharged, and a new account ofneglect and commemoration is opened between the public and the next whorises to supply his room. It was thus with Dryden: His family werepreparing to bury him with the decency becoming their limitedcircumstances, when Charles Montague, Lord Jefferies, and other men ofquality, made a subscription for a public funeral. The body of the poetwas then removed to the Physicians' Hall, where it was embalmed, and layin state till the 13th day of May, twelve days after the decease. Onthat day, the celebrated Dr. Garth pronounced a Latin oration over theremains of his departed friend; which were then, with considerablestate, preceded by a band of music, and attended by a numerousprocession of carriages, transported to Westminster Abbey, and depositedbetween the graves of Chaucer and Cowley.

The malice of Dryden's contemporaries, which he had experienced throughlife, attempted to turn into burlesque these funeral honours. Farquhar,the comic dramatist, wrote a letter containing a ludicrous account ofthe funeral;[51] in which, as Mr. Malone most justly remarks, he onlysought to amuse his fair correspondent by an assemblage of ludicrous andantithetical expressions and ideas, which, when accurately examined,express little more than the bustle and confusion which attends everyfuneral procession of uncommon splendour. Upon this ground-work, Mrs.Thomas (the Corinna of Pope and Cromwell) raised, at the distance ofthirty years, the marvellous structure of fable, which has been copiedby all Dryden's biographers, till the industry of Mr. Malone has sentit, with other figments of the same lady, to "the grave of all theCapulets."[52] She appears to have been something assisted by aburlesque account of the funeral, imputed by Mr. Malone to Tom Brown,who certainly continued to insult Dryden's memory whenever anopportunity offered.[53] Indeed, Mrs. Thomas herself quotes this lastrespectable authority. It must be a well-conducted and uncommon publicceremony, where the philosopher can find nothing to condemn, nor thesatirist to ridicule; yet, to our imagination, what can be morestriking, than the procession of talent and rank, which escorted theremains of DRYDEN to the tomb of CHAUCER!

The private character of the individual, his personal appearance, andrank in society, are the circumstances which generally interest thepublic most immediately upon his decease.

We are enabled, from the various paintings and engravings of Dryden, aswell as from the less flattering delineations of the satirists of histime, to form a tolerable idea of his face and person. In youth, heappears to have been handsome,[54] and of a pleasing countenance: whenhis age was more advanced, he was corpulent and florid, which procuredhim the nickname attached to him by Rochester.[55] In his latter days,distress and disappointment probably chilled the fire of his eye, andthe advance of age destroyed the animation of his countenance.[56]Still, however, his portraits bespeak the look and features of genius;especially that in which he is drawn with his waving grey hairs.

In disposition and moral character, Dryden is represented as mostamiable, by all who had access to know him; and his works, as well asletters, bear evidence to the justice of their panegyric. Congreve'scharacter of the poet was drawn doubtless favourably, yet it containspoints which demonstrate its fidelity.

"Whoever shall censure me, I dare be confident, you, my lord, willexcuse me for anything that I shall say with due regard to a gentleman,for whose person I had as just an affection as I have an admiration ofhis writings. And indeed Mr. Dryden had personal qualities to challengeboth love and esteem from all who were truly acquainted with him.

"He was of a nature exceedingly humane and compassionate; easilyforgiving injuries, and capable of a prompt and sincere reconciliationwith them who had offended him.

"Such a temperament is the only solid foundation of all moral virtuesand sociable endowments. His friendship, where he professed it, wentmuch beyond his professions; and I have been told of strong and generousinstances of it by the persons themselves who received them, though hishereditary income was little more than a bare competency.

"As his reading had been very extensive, so was he very happy in amemory, tenacious of everything that he had read. He was not morepossessed of knowledge, than he was communicative of it. But then hiscommunication of it was by no means pedantic, or imposed upon theconversation; but just such, and went so far, as, by the natural turnsof the discourse in which he was engaged, it was necessarily promoted orrequired. He was extreme ready and gentle in his correction of theerrors of any writer, who thought fit to consult him: and full as readyand patient to admit of the reprehension of others, in respect of hisown oversight or mistakes. He was of very easy, I may say, of verypleasing access; but something slow, and, as it were, diffident in hisadvances to others. He had something in his nature, that abhorredintrusion into any society whatsoever. Indeed, it is to be regretted,that he was rather blameable in the other extreme; for, by that means,he was personally less known, and, consequently, his character mightbecome liable both to misapprehensions and misrepresentations.

"To the best of my knowledge and observation, he was, of all the menthat I ever knew, one of the most modest, and the most easily to bediscountenanced in his approaches either to his superiors or hisequals."

This portrait is from the pen of friendship; yet, if we consider all thecircumstances of Dryden's life, we cannot deem it much exaggerated. Forabout forty years, his character, personal and literary, was the objectof assault by every subaltern scribbler, titled or untitled, laureatedor pilloried. "My morals," he himself has said, "have been sufficientlyaspersed; that only sort of reputation, which ought to be dear to everyhonest man, and is to me." In such an assault, no weapon would remainunhandled, no charge, true or false, unurged; and what qualities we donot there find excepted against, must surely be admitted to pass to thecredit of Dryden. His change of political opinion, from the time heentered life under the protection of a favourite of Cromwell, might haveargued instability, if he had changed a second time, when the current ofpower and popular opinion set against the doctrines of the Reformation.As it is, we must hold Dryden to have acted from conviction, sincepersonal interest, had that been the ruling motive of his politicalconduct, would have operated as strongly in 1688 as in 1660. The changeof his religion we have elsewhere discussed; and endeavoured to showthat, although Dryden was unfortunate in adopting the more corruptedform of our religion, yet, considered relatively, it was a fortunate andlaudable conviction which led him from the mazes of scepticism to becomea catholic of the communion of Rome.[57] It would be vain to maintain,that in his early career he was free from the follies and vices of adissolute period; but the absence of every positive charge, and thesilence of numerous accusers, may be admitted to prove, that he partookin them more from general example than inclination, and with a moderate,rather than voracious or undistinguishing appetite. It must be admitted,that he sacrificed to the Belial or Asmodeus of the age, in hiswritings; and that he formed his taste upon the licentious and gaysociety with which he mingled. But we have the testimony of one who knewhim well, that, however loose his comedies, the temper of the author wasmodest;[58] his indelicacy was like the forced impudence of a bashfulman; and Rochester has accordingly upbraided him, that hislicentiousness was neither natural nor seductive. Dryden hadunfortunately conformed enough to the taste of his age, to attempt that"nice mode of wit," as it is termed by the said noble author, whose namehas become inseparably connected with it; but it sate awkwardly upon hisnatural modesty, and in general sounds impertinent, as well asdisgusting. The clumsy phraseology of Burnet, in passing censure on theimmorality of the stage, after the Restoration, terms "Dryden, thegreatest master of dramatic poesy, a monster of immodesty and ofimpurity of all sorts." The expression called forth the animated defenceof Granville, Lord Lansdowne, our author's noble friend. "All who knewhim," said Lansdowne, "can testify this was not his character. He was somuch a stranger to immodesty, that modesty in too great a degree was hisfailing: he hurt his fortune by it, he complained of it, and never couldovercome it. He was," adds he, "esteemed, courted, and admired, by allthe great men of the age in which he lived, who would certainly not havereceived into friendship a monster abandoned to all sorts of vice andimpurity. His writings will do immortal honour to his name and country,and his poems last as long, if I may have leave to say it, as theBishop's sermons, supposing them to be equally excellent in theirkind."[59]

The Bishop's youngest son, Thomas Burnet, in replying to Lord Lansdowne,explained his father's last expressions as limited to Dryden's plays,and showed, by doing so, that there was no foundation for fixing thisgross and dubious charge upon his private moral character.

Dryden's conduct as a father, husband, and master of a family, seems tohave been affectionate, faithful, and, so far as his circumstancesadmitted, liberal and benevolent. The whole tenor of his correspondencebears witness to his paternal feelings; and even when he was obliged tohave recourse to Tonson's immediate assistance to pay for the presentshe sent them, his affection vented itself in that manner. As a husband,if Lady Elizabeth's peculiarities of temper precluded the idea of a warmattachment, he is not upbraided with neglect or infidelity by any of histhousand assailants. As a landlord, Mr. Malone has informed us, on theauthority of Lady Dryden, that "his little estate at Blakesley is atthis day occupied by one Harriots, grandson of the tenant who held it inDryden's time; and he relates, that his grandfather was used to takegreat pleasure in talking of our poet. He was, he said, the easiest andthe kindest landlord in the world, and never raised the rent during thewhole time he possessed the estate."

Some circumstances, however, may seem to degrade so amiable a private,so sublime a poetical character. The licence of his comedy, as we haveseen, had for it only the apology of universal example, and must belamented, though not excused. Let us, however, remember, that if in thehey-day of the merry monarch's reign, Dryden ventured to maintain, that,the prime end of poetry being pleasure, the muses ought not to befettered by the chains of strict decorum; yet in his more advanced andsober mood, he evinced sincere repentance for his trespass, by patientand unresisting submission to the coarse and rigorous chastisement ofCollier. If it is alleged, that, in the fury of his loyal satire, he wasnot always solicitous concerning its justice, let us make allowance forthe prejudice of party, and consider at what advantage, after the lapsof more than a century, and through the medium of impartial history, wenow view characters, who were only known to their contemporaries aszealous partisans of an opposite and detested faction. The moderation ofDryden's reprisals, when provoked by the grossest calumny and personalinsult, ought also to plead in his favour. Of the hundreds who thusassailed, not only his literary, but his moral reputation, he hasdistinguished Settle and Shadwell alone by an elaborate retort. Thosewho look into Mr. Luttrell's collections, will at once see the extent ofDryden's sufferance, and the limited nature of his retaliation.

The extreme flattery of Dryden's dedications has been objected to him,as a fault of an opposite description; and perhaps no writer hasequalled him in the profusion and elegance of his adulation. "Of thiskind of meanness," says Johnson, "he never seems to decline thepractice, or lament the necessity. He considers the great as entitled toencomiastic homage, and brings praise rather as a tribute than a gift;more delighted with the fertility of his invention than mortified by theprostitution of his judgment." It may be noticed, in palliation of thisheavy charge, that the form of address to superiors must be judged of bythe manners of the times; and that the adulation contained indedications was then as much a matter of course, as the words ofsubmissive style which still precede the subscription Dryden consideredhis panegyrics as merely conforming with the fashion of the day, andrendering unto Caesar the things which were Caesar's,--attended with nomore degradation than the payment of any other tribute to the forms ofpoliteness and usage of the world.

Of Dryden's general habits of life we can form a distinct idea, from theevidence assembled by Mr. Malone. His mornings were spent in study; hedined with his family, probably about two o'clock. After dinner he wentusually to Will's Coffeehouse, the famous rendezvous of the wits of thetime, where he had his established chair by the chimney in winter, andnear the balcony in summer, whence he pronounced, _ex cathedra_, hisopinion upon new publications, and, in general, upon all matters ofdubious criticism.[60] Latterly, all who had occasion to ridicule orattack him, represent him as presiding in this little senate.[61] Hisopinions, however, were not maintained with dogmatism; and we have aninstance, in a pleasing anecdote told by Dr. Lockier,[62] that Drydenreadily listened to criticism, provided it was just, from whateverunexpected and undignified quarter it happened to come. In general,however, it may be supposed, that few ventured to dispute his opinion,or place themselves of his censure. He was most falsely accused ofcarrying literary jealousy to such a length, as feloniously to encourageCreech to venture on a translation of Horace, that he might lose thecharacter he had gained by a version of Lucretius. But this ispositively contradicted, upon the authority of Southerne.[63]

We have so often stopped in our narrative of Dryden's life, to noticethe respectability of his general society, that little need here be saidon the subject. Although no enemy to conviviality, he is pronounced byPope to have been regular in his hours in comparison with Addison, whootherwise lived the same coffee-house course of life. He has himselftold us, that he was "saturnine and reserved, and not one of those whoendeavour to entertain company by lively sallies of merriment and wit;"and an adversary has put into his mouth this couplet--

"Nor wine nor love could ever see me gay; To writing bred, I knew not what to say."

_Dryden's Satire to his Muse._

But the admission of the author, and the censure of the satirist, mustbe received with some limitation. Dryden was thirty years old before hewas freed from the fetters of puritanism; and if the habits of livelyexpression in society are not acquired before that age, they are seldomgained afterward. But this applies only to the deficiency of repartee,in the sharp encounter of wit which was fashionable at the court ofCharles, and cannot be understood to exclude Dryden's possessing themore solid qualities of agreeable conversation, arising from a memoryprofoundly stocked with knowledge, and a fancy which supplied modes ofillustration faster than the author could use them.[64] Some few sayingsof Dryden have been, however, preserved; which, if not witty, are atleast jocose. He is said to have been the original author of therepartee to the Duke of Buckingham, who, in bowling, offered to lay "hissoul to a turnip," or something still more vile. "Give me the odds,"said Dryden, "and I take the bet." When his wife wished to be a book,that she might enjoy more of his company, "Be an almanac then, my dear,"said the poet, "that I may change you once a year."[65] Another time, afriend expressing his astonishment that even D'Urfey could write suchstuff as a play they had just witnessed, "Ah, sir," replied Dryden, "youdo not know my friend Tom so well as I do; I'll answer for him, he canwrite worse yet." None of these anecdotes intimate great brilliancy ofrepartee; but that Dryden, possessed of such a fund of imagination, andacquired learning, should be dull in conversation, is impossible. He isknown frequently to have regaled his friends, by communicating to them apart of his labours; but his poetry suffered by his recitation. He readhis productions very ill;[66] owing, perhaps, to the modest reserve of histemper, which prevented his showing an animation in which he feared hisaudience might not participate. The same circumstance may have repressedthe liveliness of his conversation. I know not, however, whether we are,with Mr. Malone, to impute to diffidence his general habit of consultinghis literary friends upon his poems, before they became public, since itmight as well arise from a wish to anticipate and soften criticism.[67]

Of Dryden's learning, his works form the best proof. He had readPolybius before he was ten years of age;[68] and was doubtless wellacquainted with the Greek and Roman classics. But from these studies hecould descend to read romances: and the present editor records withpride, that Dryden was a decided admirer of old ballads and populartales.[69] His researches sometimes extended into the vain province ofjudicial astrology, in which he was a firm believer; and there is reasonto think that he also credited divination by dreams. In the country, hedelighted in the pastime of fishing, and used, says Mr. Malone, to spendsome time with Mr. Jones of Ramsden, in Wiltshire. D'Urfey was sometimesof this party; but Dryden appears to have undervalued his skill infishing, as much as his attempts at poetry. Hence Fenton, in his Epistleto Mr. Lambard:

"By long experience, D'Urfey may no doubt Ensnare a gudgeon, or sometimes a trout; Yet Dryden once exclaimed, in partial spite, '_He fish_!'--because the man attempts to write."

I may conclude this notice of Dryden's habits, which I have been enabledto give chiefly by the researches of Mr. Malone, with two notices of aminute nature. Dryden was a great taker of snuff, which he made himself.Moreover, as a preparation to a course of study, he usually tookmedicine, and observed a cooling diet.[70]

Dryden's house, which he appears to have resided in from the period ofhis marriage till his death, was in Gerrard Street, the fifth on theleft hand coming from Little Newport Street.[71] The back windows lookedupon the gardens of Leicester House, of which circumstance our poetavailed himself to pay a handsome compliment to the noble owner.[72] Hisexcursions to the country seem to have been frequent; perhaps the moreso, as Lady Elizabeth always remained in town. In his latter days, thefriendship of his relations, John Driden of Chesterton, and Mrs. Stewardof Cotterstock, rendered their houses agreeable places of abode to theaged poet. They appear also to have had a kind solicitude about hislittle comforts, of value infinitely beyond aiding them. And thusconcludes all that we have learned of the private life of Dryden.

The fate of Dryden's family must necessarily interest the admirers ofEnglish literature. It consisted of his wife, Lady Elizabeth Dryden, andthree sons, John, Charles, and Erasmus Henry. Upon the poet's death, itmay be believed, they felt themselves slenderly provided for, since allhis efforts, while alive, were necessary to secure them from the gripeof penury.

Yet their situation was not very distressing. John and Erasmus Henrywere abroad; and each had an office at Rome, in which he was able tosupport himself. Charles had for some time been entirely dependent onhis father, and administered to his effects, as he died without a will.The liberality of the Duchess of Ormond, and of Driden of Chesterton,had been lately received, and probably was not expended. There was,besides, the poet's little patrimonial estate, and a small property inWiltshire, which the Earl of Berkshire settled upon Lady Elizabeth ather marriage, and which yielded L50 or L60 annually. There was thereforean income of about L100 a year, to maintain the poet's widow andchildren; enough in these times to support them in decent frugality.

Lady Elizabeth Dryden's temper had long disturbed her husband's domestichappiness. "His invectives," says Mr. Malone, "against the married stateare frequent and bitter, and were continued to the latest period of hislife;" and he adds, from most respectable authority, that the family ofthe poet held no intimacy with his lady, confining their intercourse tomere visits of ceremony.[73] A similar alienation seems to have takenplace between her and her own relations, Sir Robert Howard, perhaps,being excepted; for her brother, the Honourable Edward Howard, talks ofVirgil, as a thing he had learned merely by common report.[74] Herwayward disposition was, however, the effect of a disordered imaginationwhich, shortly after Dryden's death, degenerated into absolute insanity,in which state she remained until her death in summer 1714, probably,says Mr. Malone, in the seventy-ninth year of her life.

Dryden's three sons, says the inscription by Mrs. Creed, were ingeniousand accomplished gentlemen. Charles, the eldest, and favourite son ofthe poet, was born at Charlton, Wiltshire, in 1666. He received aclassical education under Dr. Busby, his father's preceptor, and waschosen King's Scholar in 1680. Being elected to Trinity College inCambridge, he was admitted a member in 1683. It would have beendifficult to conceive that the son of Dryden should not have attemptedpoetry; but though Charles Dryden escaped the fate of Icarus, he wasvery, very far from emulating his father's soaring flight. Mr. Malonehas furnished a list of his compositions in Latin and English.[75] About1692, he went to Italy, and through the interest of Cardinal Howard, towhom he was related by the mother's side, he became Chamberlain of theHousehold; not, as Corinna pretends, "to that _remarkably finegentleman_, Pope Clement XI.," but to Pope Innocent XII. His way to thispreferment was smoothed by a pedigree drawn up in Latin by his father,of the families of Dryden and Howard, which is said to have beendeposited in the Vatican. Dryden, whose turn for judicial astrology wehave noticed, had calculated the nativity of his son Charles; and itwould seem that a part of his predictions were fortuitously fulfilled.Charles, however, having suffered, while at Rome, by a fall, and hishealth, in consequence, being much injured, his father prognosticated hewould begin to recover in the month of September 1697. The issue did nogreat credit to the prediction; for young Dryden returned to England in1698 in the same indifferent state of health, as is obvious from theanxious solicitude with which his father always mentions Charles in hiscorrespondence. Upon the poet's death, Charles, we have seen,administered to his effects on 10th June 1700, Lady Elizabeth, hismother, renouncing the succession. In the next year, Granville conferredon him the profits arising from the author's night of an alteration ofShakespeare's "Merchant of Venice;" and his liberality to the son of onegreat bard may be admitted to balance his presumption in manufacturing anew drama out of the labours of another.[76] Upon the 20th August 1704,Charles Dryden was drowned, in an attempt to swim across the Thames, atDatchet, near Windsor. I have degraded into the Appendix, the romanticnarrative of Corinna, concerning his father's prediction, alreadymentioned. It contains, like her account of the funeral of the poet,much positive falsehood, and gross improbability, with some slightscantling of foundation in fact.

John Dryden, the poet's second son, was born in 1667, or 1668, wasadmitted a King's Scholar in Westminster in 1682, and elected to Oxfordin 1685. Here he became a private pupil of the celebrated ObadiahWalker, Master of University College, a Roman Catholic. It seemsprobable that young Dryden became a convert to that faith before hisfather. His religion making it impossible for him to succeed in England,he followed his brother Charles to Rome, where he officiated as hisdeputy in the Pope's household. John Dryden translated the fourteenthSatire of Juvenal, published in his father's version, and wrote a comedyentitled, "The Husband his own Cuckold," acted in Lincoln's Inn Fieldsin 1696; Dryden, the father, furnishing a prologue, and Congreve anepilogue. In 1700-1, he made a tour through Sicily and Malta, and hisjournal was published in 1706. It seems odd, that in the whole course ofhis journal, he never mentions his father's name, nor makes the leastallusion to his very recent death. John Dryden, the younger, died atRome soon after this excursion.

Erasmus Henry, Dryden's third son, was born 2d May 1669, and educated inthe Charterhouse, to which he was nominated by Charles II., shortlyafter the publication of "Absalom and Achitophel."[77] He does notappear to have been at any university; probably his religion was theobstacle. Like his brothers, he went to Rome; and as both his father andmother request his prayers, we are to suppose he was originally destinedfor the Church. But he became a Captain in the Pope's guards, andremained at Rome till John Dryden, his elder brother's death. After thisevent, he seems to have returned to England, and in 1708 succeeded tothe title of Baronet, as representative of Sir Erasmus Driden. theauthor's grandfather. But the estate of Canons-Ashby, which should haveaccompanied the title, had been devised by Sir Robert Driden, the poet'sfirst cousin, to Edward Dryden, the eldest son of Erasmus, the youngerbrother of the poet. Thus, if the author had lived a few years longer,his pecuniary embarrassments would have been embittered by hissucceeding to the honours of his family, without any means of sustainingthe rank they gave him. With this Edward Dryden, Sir Erasmus Henry seemsto have resided until his death, which took place at the family mansionof Canons-Ashby in 1710. Edward acted as a manager of his cousin'saffairs; and Mr. Malone sees reason to think, from their mode ofaccounting, that Sir Erasmus Henry had, like his mother, been visitedwith mental derangement before his death, and had resigned into Edward'shands the whole management of his concerns. Thus ended the poet'sfamily, none of his sons surviving him above ten years. The estate ofCanons-Ashby became again united to the title, in the person of JohnDryden, the surviving brother.[78]

FOOTNOTES

[1] Such, I understand, is the general purport of some letters ofDryden's, in possession of the Dorset family, which contain certainparticulars rendering them unfit for publication. Our author himselfcommemorates Dorset's generosity in the Essay on Satire, in thefollowing affecting passage: "Though I must ever acknowledge to thehonour of your lordship, and the eternal memory of your charity, thatsince this Revolution, wherein I have patiently suffered the ruin of mysmall fortune, and the loss of that poor subsistence which I had fromtwo kings, whom I had served more faithfully than profitably to myself--then your lordship was pleased, out of no other motive but your ownnobleness, without any desert of mine, or the least solicitation fromme, to make me a most bountiful present, which at that time, when I wasmost in want of it, came most seasonably and unexpectedly to my relief.That favour, my lord, is of itself sufficient to bind any grateful manto a perpetual acknowledgment, and to all the future service which oneof my mean condition can be ever able to perform. May the Almighty Godreturn it for me, both in blessing you here, and rewarding youhereafter!"--_Essay on Satire_, vol. xiii.

[2] So says Ward, in the London Spy.

[3] "Dryden, though my near relation," says Swift, "is one whom I haveoften blamed, as well as pitied." Mr. Malone traces their consanguinityto Swift's grandmother, Elizabeth Dryden, being the daughter of abrother of Sir Erasmus Driden, the poet's grandfather; so that the Deanof St. Patrick's was the son of Dryden's second cousin, which, inScotland, would even yet be deemed a near relation. The passages inprose and verse, in which Swift reflects on Dryden, are various. Hementions, in his best poem, "The Rhapsody,"

"The prefaces of Dryden, For these our cities much confide in, Though merely writ at first for filling, To raise the volume's price a shilling."

He introduces Dryden in "The Battle of the Books," with a mostirreverent description; and many of the brilliant touches in thefollowing assumed character of a hack author, are directed against ourpoet. The malignant allusions to merits, to sufferings, to changes ofopinion, to political controversies, and a peaceful consciences, cannotbe mistaken. The piece was probably composed _flagrante odio_, for itoccurs in the Introduction to "The Tale of a Tub," which was writtenabout 1692. "These notices may serve to give the learned reader an idea,as well as taste, of what the whole work is likely to produce, wherein Ihave now altogether circumscribed my thoughts and my studies; and, if Ican bring it to a perfection before I die, I shall reckon I have wellemployed the poor remains of an unfortunate life. This indeed is morethan I can justly expect, from a quill worn to the pith in the serviceof the state, in _pros_ and _cons_ upon popish plots, and meal tubs, andexclusion bills, and passive obedience, and addresses of lives andfortunes, and prerogative, and property and liberty of conscience, andletters to a friend: from an understanding and a conscience, threadbareand ragged with perpetual turning; from a head broken in a hundredplaces by the malignants of the opposite factions; and from a body spentwith poxes ill cured, by trusting to bawds and surgeons, who, as itafterwards appeared, were professed enemies to me and the government,and revenged their party's quarrel upon my nose and shins. Fourscore andeleven pamphlets have I written under three reigns, and for the serviceof six and thirty factions. But finding the state has no fartheroccasion for me and my ink, I retire willingly to draw it out intospeculations more becoming a philosopher; having, to my unspeakablecomfort, passed a long life with a conscience void of offence." [SeeAppendix, vol. xviii., art. "Dryden and Swift."--ED.]

[4] [The exact sentence seems to have been "a Pindaric poet." But asSwift had tried nothing but Pindarics, it was nearly if not quite assevere as the more usually quoted and more sweeping verdict.--ED.]

[5] Robert Gould, author of that scandalous lampoon against Dryden,entitled "The Laureat," inscribes his collection of poems, printed1688-9, to the Earl of Abingdon; and it contains some pieces addressedto him and to his lady. He survived also to compose, on the Earl'sdeath, in 1700, "The Mourning Swan," an eclogue to his memory, in whicha shepherd gives the following account of the proximate cause of thatevent:

"_Menaleus_. To tell you true (whoe'er it may displease), He died of the _Physician_--a disease That long has reigned, and eager of renown, More than a plague depopulates the town. Inflamed with wine, and blasting at a breath, All its _prescriptions_ are receipts for death. Millions of mischiefs by its rage are wrought, Safe where 'tis fled, but barbarous where 'tis sought; A cursed ingrateful ill, that called to aid, Is still most fatal where it best is paid."

[6] How far this was necessary, the reader may judge from Mirana, afuneral eclogue; sacred to the memory of that excellent lady, Eleonora,late Countess of Abingdon, 1691, 4th Aug., which concludes with thefollowing singular _imprecation_:

"Hear, friend, my sacred imprecation hear, And let both of us kneel, and both be bare. Doom me (ye powers) to misery and shame, Let mine be the most ignominious name, Let me, each day, be with new griefs perplext, Curst in this life, nor blessed in the next, If I believe the like of her survives, Or if I think her not the best of mothers, and of wives."

[7] 30th August 1693, Dryden writes to Tonson, "I am sure you thought myLord Radclyffe would have done something; I guessed more truly, that hecould not."--Vol. xviii. The expression perhaps applies rather to hislordship's want of ability than inclination; and Dryden says indeed, inthe dedication, that it is in his nature to be an encourager of goodpoets, though fortune has not yet put into his hands the power ofexpressing it. In a letter to Mrs. Steward, Dryden speaks of Ratcliffeas a poet, "and none of the best."--Vol. xviii.

[8] Vol. xviii.

[9] Copied from the Chandos picture. Kneller's copy is now at WentworthHouse, the seat of Earl Fitzwilliam.

[10] The antiquary may now search in vain for this frail memorial; forthe house of Chesterton was, 1807, pulled down for the sake of thematerials.

[11] The exact pecuniary arrangements for the Virgil are a matter ofmuch dispute, almost every biographer taking a different view. It seemsmost probable that the payment was fifty pounds per two books, not fiftyfor each. The point will be more fully discussed on the letters dealingwith the subject.--Ed.

[12] This gave rise to a good epigram:

"Old Jacob, by deep judgment swayed, To please the wise beholders, Has placed old Nassau's hook-nosed head On poor Aeneas' shoulders.

To make the parallel hold tack, Methinks there's little lacking; One took his father pick-a-pack, And t'other sent his packing."

[13] "I am of your opinion," says the poet to his son Charles, "that, byTonson's means, almost all our letters have miscarried for this lastyear. But, however, he has missed of his design in the dedication,though he had prepared the book for it; for, in every figure of Aeneas,he has caused him to be drawn, like King William, with a hooked nose."Dryden hints to Tonson himself his suspicion of this unworthy device,desiring him to forward a letter to his son Charles, but not by post."Being satisfied, that Ferrand will do by this as he did by two letterswhich I sent my sons, about my dedicating to the king, of which theyreceived neither."--Vol. xviii.

[14] Johnson's "Life of Dryden."

[15] [Professor Masson calculates, apparently on good grounds, thatSimmons probably made about five or six times what he paid. This, in notmuch more than a year, cannot be considered a bad trade return; but thesale price of "Paradise Lost" seems to provoke unfounded commonplacesfrom even the most unexpected sources.--ED.]

[16] "I confess to have been somewhat liberal in the business of titles,having observed the humour of multiplying them, to bear great vogueamong certain writers, whom I exceedingly reverence. And indeed it seemsnot unreasonable that books, the children of the brain, should have thehonour to be christened with variety of names, as well as other infantsof quality. Our famous Dryden has ventured to proceed a point farther,endeavouring to introduce also a multiplicity of godfathers; which is animprovement of much more advantage, upon a very obvious account. It is apity this admirable invention has not been better cultivated, so as togrow by this time into general imitation, when such an authority servesit for a precedent. Nor have my endeavours been wanting to second souseful an example: but, it seems, there is an unhappy expense usuallyannexed to the calling of a godfather, which was clearly out of my head,as it is very reasonable to believe. Where the pinch lay, I cannotcertainly affirm; but, having employed a world of thoughts and pains tosplit my treatise into forty sections, and having entreated forty lordsof my acquaintance, that they would do me the honour to stand, they allmade it a matter of conscience, and sent me their excuses."

[17] Besides the notes on Virgil, he wrote many single sermons, and ametrical version of the psalms, and died in 1720.

[18] He is described as a rake in "The Pacificator," a poem bought byMr. Luttrell, 15th Feb. 1699-1700, which gives an account of a supposedbattle between the men of wit and men of sense, as the poet calls them:

"M----n, a renegade from wit, came on, And made a false attack, and next to none; The hypocrite, in sense, could not conceal What pride, and want of brains, obliged him to reveal. In him, the critic's ruined by the poet, And Virgil gives his testimony to it. The troops of wit were so enraged to see This priest invade his own fraternity, They sent a party out, by silence led, And, without answer, shot the turn-coat dead. The priest, the rake, the wit, strove all in vain, For there, alas! he lies among the slain. _Memento mori_; see the consequence, When rakes and wits set up for men of sense."

[19] This, Mr. Malone has proved by the following extract from Motteux's"Gentleman's Journal." "That best of poets (says Motteux) having so longcontinued a stranger to tolerable English, Mr. Milbourne pitied his hardfate; and seeing that several great men had undertaken some episodes ofhis Aeneis, without any design of Englishing the whole, he gave us thefirst book of it some years ago, with a design to go through the poem.It was the misfortune of that first attempt to appear just about thetime of the late Revolution, when few had leisure to mind such books;yet, though by reason of his absence, it was printed with a world offaults, those that are sufficient judges have done it the justice toesteem it a very successful attempt, and cannot but wish that he wouldcomplete the entire translation."--_Gent. Journ._ for August 1692.

[20] See the Preface to "A Funeral Idyll, sacred to the glorious Memoryof King William III.," by Mr. Oldmixon.

"In the Idyll on the peace, I made the first essay to throw off rhymes,and the kind reception that poem met with, has encouraged me to attemptit again. I have not been persuaded by my friends to change the Idyllinto Idyllium; for having an English word set me by Mr. Dryden, which heuses indifferently with the Greek, I thought it might be as proper in anEnglish poem. I shall not be solicitous to justify myself to those whoexcept against his authority, till they produce me a better: I haveheard him blamed for his innovations and coining of words, even bypersons who have already been sufficiently guilty of the fault they layto his charge; and shown us what we are to expect from them, were theirnames as well settled as his. If I had qualifications enough to do itsuccessfully, I should advise them to write more naturally, delicately,and reasonably themselves, before they attack Mr. Dryden's reputation;and to think there is something more necessary to make a man write well,than the favour of the great, or the success of a faction. We have everyyear seen how fickle Fortune has been to her declared favourites; andmen of merit, as well as he who has none, have suffered by herinconstancy, as much as they got by her smiles. This should alarm suchas are eminently indebted to her, and may be of use to them in theirfuture reflections on others' productions, not to assume too much tothemselves from her partiality to them, lest, when they are left liketheir predecessor, it should only serve to render them the moreridiculous."

"_Preface_.--Ever since I caught some termagant ones in a club,undervaluing our new translation of Virgil, I've known both what opinionI ought to harbour, and what use to make of them; and since theopportunity of a digression so luckily presents itself, I shall makebold to ask the gentlemen their sentiments of two or three lines (topass over a thousand other instances) which they may meet with in thatwork. The fourth Aeneid says of Dido, after certain effects of hertaking shelter with Aeneas in the cave appear,

_Conjuijium vocat, hoc proetexit lomine culpam,_ V. 172,

which Mr. Dryden renders thus:

She called it marriage, by that specious name To veil the crime, and sanctify the shame.

Nor had he before less happily rendered the 39th verse of the secondAeneid:

_Scinditur in certum studia in contraria vulgus._

The giddy vulgar, as their fancies guide, With noise, say nothing, and in parts divide.

"If these are the lines which they call flat and spiritless, I wish minecould be flat and spiritless too! And, therefore, to make short work, Ishall only beg Mr. Dryden's leave to congratulate him upon his admirableflatness, and dulness, in a rapture of poetical indignation:

Then dares the poring critic snarl? And dare The[21a] puny brats of Momus threaten war? And can't the proud perverse Arachne's fate Deter the[21a] mongrels e'er it prove too late? In vain, alas! we warn the[21a] hardened brood; In vain expect they'll ever come to good. No: they'd conceive more venom if they could. But let each[21a] viper at his peril bite, While you defy the most ingenious spite. So Parian columns, raised with costly care, [21a] Vile snails and worms may daub, yet not impair, While the tough titles, and obdurate rhyme, Fatigue the busy grinders of old Time. Not but your Maro justly may complain, Since your translation ends his ancient reign, And but by your officious muse outvied, That vast immortal name had never died.

"[21a] I desire these appellations may not seem to affect the partiesconcerned, any otherwise than as to their character of critics."

[22] Preface to the Fables, vol. xi.

[23] See several extracts from these poems in the Appendix, vol. xviii.,which I have thrown together to show how much Dryden was considered assovereign among the poets of the time.

[24] This I learn from _Honori Sacellum_, a Funeral Poem, to the Memoryof William, Duke of Devonshire, 1707:

"'Twas so, when the destroyer's dreadful dart Once pierced through ours, to fair Maria's heart. From his state-helm then some short hours he stole, T'indulge his melting eyes, and bleeding soul: Whilst his bent knees, to those remains divine, Paid their last offering to that royal shrine."

On which lines occurs this explanatory note:--"An Ode, composed by HisGrace, on the death of the late Queen Mary, justly adjudged by theingenious Mr. Dryden to have exceeded all that had been written on thatoccasion."

[25] Dr. Birch refers to the authority of Richard Graham, junior; but nosuch letter has been recovered.

[26] The authority, however respectable, has a very long chain of links.Warton heard it from A, who heard it from B, who heard it from Pope, whoheard it from Bolingbroke.--Ed.

[27] This discovery was made by the researches of Mr. Malone. Dr. Burneydescribes Clarke as excelling in the tender and plaintive, to which hewas prompted by a temperament of natural melancholy. In the agonieswhich arose from an unfortunate attachment, he committed suicide in July1707. See a full account of the catastrophe in Malone's "Life ofDryden," p. 299.

[28] It was first performed on February 19, 1735-6, at opera prices."The public expectations and the effects of this representation (saysDr. Burney) seem to have been correspondent, for the next day we aretold in the public papers [London Daily Post, and General Advertiser,Feb. 20,] that 'there never was, upon the like occasion, so numerous andsplendid an audience at any theatre in London, there being at leastthirteen hundred persons present; and it is judged that the receipts ofthe house could not amount to less than L450. It met with generalapplause, though attended with the inconvenience of having theperformers placed at too great a distance from the audience, which wehear will be rectified the next time of performance."--_Hist. of Music_,iv. 391.

[29] See vol. xviii.

[30] "Thine be the laurel, then; thy blooming age Can best, if any can, support the stage, Which to declines, that shortly we may see Players and plays reduced to second infancy. Sharp to the world, but thoughtless of renown, They plot not on the stage, but on the town; And in despair their empty pit to fill, Set up some foreign monster in a bill: Thus they jog on, still tricking, never thriving, And murth'ring plays, which they miscall--reviving. Our sense is nonsense, through their pipes conveyed; Scarce can a poet know the play he made, 'Tis so disguised in death; nor thinks 'tis he That suffers in the mangled tragedy: Thus Itys first was killed, and after dressed For his own sire, the chief invited guest."

This gave great offence to the players; one of whom (Powell) made apetulant retort, which the reader will find in a note upon the Epistleitself, vol. xi.

[31] Milbourne, in a note on that passage in the dedication to theAeneid--"_He who can write well in rhyme, may write better in blankverse_," says,--"We shall know that, when we see how much betterDryden's Homer will be than his Virgil."

[32] "Much the same character he gave of it (_i.e._ Paradise Lost) toa north-country gentleman, to whom I mentioned the book, he being agreat reader, but not in a right train, coming to town seldom, andkeeping little company. Dryden amazed him with speaking so loftily ofit. 'Why, Mr. Dryden, says he (Sir W.L. told me the thing himself), 'tisnot in rhyme.' 'No, [replied Dryden;] _nor would I have done_ Virgil_in rhyme, if I was to begin it again._'"--This conversation is supposedby Mr. Malone to have been held with Sir Wilfrid Lawson, of Isell inCumberland.

[33] See a letter to Mrs. Thomas, vol. xviii.

[34] "Some of these poets, to excuse their guilt, allege for themselves,that the degeneracy of the age makes their lewd way of writingnecessary: they pretend the auditors will not be pleased, unless theyare thus entertained from the stage; and to please, they say, is thechief business of the poet. But this is by no means a just apology: itis not true, as was said before, that the poet's chief business is toplease. His chief business is to instruct, to make mankind wiser andbetter; and in order to this, his care should be to please and entertainthe audience with all the wit and art he is master of. Aristotle andHorace, and all their critics and commentators all men of wit and senseagree, that this is the end of poetry. But they say, it is theirprofession to write for the stage; and that poets must starve, if theywill not in this way humour the audience: the theatre will be asunfrequented as the churches, and the poet and the parson equallyneglected. Let the poet then abandon his profession, and take up somehonest lawful calling, where, joining industry to his great wit, he maysoon get above the complaints of poverty, so common among theseingenious men, and lie under no necessity of prostituting his wit to anysuch vile purposes as are here censured. This will-be a course of lifemore profitable and honourable to himself, and more useful to others.And there are among these writers _some, who think they might have risento the highest dignities in other professions, had they employed theirwit in those ways._ It is a mighty dishonour and reproach to any manthat is capable of being useful to the world in any _liberal andvirtuous_ profession, _to lavish out his life and wit in propagatingvice and corruption of manners_, and in battering from the stage thestrongest entrenchments and best works of religion and virtue. Whoevermakes this his choice, when the other was in his power, may he go offthe stage unpitied, _complaining of neglect and poverty, the justpunishments of his irreligion and folly!_"

[35] Mr. Malone conceives, that the Fables were published before the"Satire upon Wit;" but he had not this evidence of the contrary beforehim. It is therefore clear, that Dryden endured a second attack fromBlackmore, before making any reply.

[36] Since Scott wrote, the Collier-Congreve controversy has been thesubject of well-known essays by Lamb, Hazlitt, Leigh Hunt, and Macaulay.Very recently a fresh and excellent account of Collier's book hasappeared in M.A. Beljame's _Le Public et les Hommes de Lettres enAngleterre au xviiieme siecle_ (Paris: Hachette, 1881), a remarkablevolume, to which, and to its author, I owe much.--Ed.

[37] In his apology for "The Tale of a Tub," he points out to theresentment of the clergy, "those heavy illiterate scribblers, prostitutein their reputations, vicious in their lives, and ruined in theirfortunes, who, to the shame of good sense, as well as piety, aregreedily read, merely upon the strength of bold, false, impiousassertions, mixed with unmannerly reflections on the priesthood." And,after no great interval, he mentions the passage quoted, p. 375 "inwhich Dryden, L'Estrange, and some others I shall not name, are levelledat; who, having spent their lives in faction, and apostasies, and allmanner of vice, pretended to be sufferers for loyalty and religion. SoDryden tells us, in one of his prefaces, of his merits and sufferings,and thanks God that he possesses his soul in patience. In other placeshe talks at the same rate."

Tom Brown makes the charge more directly. "But, prithee, why so severealways on the priesthood, Mr. Bayes? What have they merited to pull downyour indignation? I thought the ridiculing men of that character uponthe stage, was by this time a topic as much worn out with you, as loveand honour in the play, or good fulsome flattery in the dedication. Butyou, I find, still continue your old humour, to date from the year ofHegira, the loss of Eton, or since orders were refused you. Whateverhangs out, either black or green colours is presently your prize: andyou would, by your good will, be as mortifying a vexation to the wholetribe, as an unbegetting year, a concatenation of briefs, or a voraciousvisitor; so that I am of opinion, you had much better have written inyour title-page,

[40] Vol. xviii. [The _Diary_ had not been deciphered when Scott wrote.--ED.]

[41] There was, to be sure, in the provoking scruples of that rigidsect, something peculiarly tempting to a satirist. How is it possible toforgive Baxter, for the affectation with which he records the enormitiesof his childhood?

"Though my conscience," says he, "would trouble me when I sinned, yetdivers sins I was addicted to, and oft committed against my conscience,which, for the warning of others, I will here confess to my shame. I wasmuch addicted to the _excessive gluttonous eating of apples and pears_,which I think laid the foundation of the imbecility and flatulency of mystomach, which caused the bodily calamities of my life. To this end, andto concur with naughty boys that gloried in evil, I have oft gone intoother men's orchards, and stolen the fruit, when I had enough at home."There are six other retractions of similar enormities, when heconcludes: "These were my sins in my childhood, as to which, consciencetroubled me for a great while before they were overcome." Baxter was apious and worthy man; but can any one read this confession withoutthinking of Tartuffe, who subjected himself to penance for killing aflea, with too much anger?

[42] See vol. xviii. Mr. Malone thinks tradition has confounded apresent made to the poet himself probably of L100, with a legacybequeathed to his son Charles, which last did amount to L500, but whichCharles lived not to receive.

[43] She is distinguished for beauty and virtue, by the author of "TheCourt at Kensington." 1699-1700.

"So Ormond's graceful mien attracts all eyes, And nature needs not ask from art supplies; An heir of grandeur shines through every part, And in her beauteous form is placed the noblest heart: In vain mankind adore, unless she were By Heaven made less virtuous, or less fair."

[44] Gildon, in his "Comparison between the Stages."--"Nay then," saysthe whole party at Drury-lane, "we'll even put 'The Pilgrim' upon him.""Ay, 'faith, so we will," says Dryden: "and if you'll let my son havethe profits of the third night, I'll give you a Secular Masque." "Done,"says the House; and so the bargain was struck.

[45] _i.e._ Upon the 25th March 1700; it being supposed (as by many inour own time) that the century was concluded so soon as the hundredthyear commenced; as if a play was ended at the _beginning of the fifthact._

[46] It was again set by Dr. Boyce, and in 1749 performed in theDrury-lane theatre, with great success.

[47] By a letter to Mrs. Steward, dated the 11th April 1700, it appearsthey were then only in his contemplation, and the poet died upon thefirst of the succeeding month. Vol. xviii.

[48] "Quick Maurus, though he never took degrees In either of our universities, Yet to be shown by Rome kind wit he looks, Because he played the fool, and writ three books. But if he would be worth a poet's pen, He must be more a fool, and write again: For all the former fustian stuff he wrote Was dead-born doggrel, or is quite forgot; His man of Uz, stript of his Hebrew robe, Is just the proverb, and 'As poor as Job.' One would have thought he could no longer jog; But Arthur was a level, Job's a bog. _There_ though he crept, yet still he kept in sight; But _here_ he founders in, and sinks downright. Had he prepared us, and been dull by rule, Tobit had first been turned to ridicule; But our bold Briton, without fear or awe, O'erleaps at once the whole Apocrypha; Invades the Psalms with rhymes, and leaves no room For any Vandal Hopkins yet to come. But when, if, after all, this godly gear Is not so senseless as it would appear, Our mountebank has laid a deeper train; His cant, like Merry Andrew's noble vein, Cat-calls the sects to draw them in again. At leisure hours in epic song he deals, Writes to the rumbling of his coach's wheels; Prescribes in haste, and seldom kills by rule, But rides triumphant between stool and stool. Well, let him go,--'tis yet too early day To get himself a place in farce or play; We know not by what name we should arraign him, For no one category can contain him. A pedant,--canting preacher,--and a quack, Are load enough to break an ass's back. At last, grown wanton, he presumed to write, Traduced two kings, their kindness to requite; One made the doctor, and one dubbed the knight."

[49] One of these well-meaning persons insulted the ashes of Drydenwhile they were still warm, in "An Epistle to Sir Richard Blackmore,occasioned by the New Session of the Poets." Marked by Mr. Luttrell, 1stNovember 1700.

"His mighty Dryden to the shades is gone, And Congreve leaves successor of his throne: Though long before his final exit hence, He was himself an abdicated Prince; Disrobed of all regalities of state, Drawn by a hind and panther from his seat. Heir to his plays, his fables, and his tales, Congreve is the poetic prince of Wales; Not at St. Germains, but at Will's, his court, Whither the subjects of his dad resort; Where plots are hatched, and councils yet unknown, How young Ascanius may ascend the throne, That in despite of all the Muses' laws, He may revenge his injured father's cause, Go, nauseous rhymers, into darkness go, And view your monarch in the shades below, Who takes not now from Helicon his drink, But sips from Styx a liquor black as ink; Like Sisyphus a restless stone he turns, And in a pile of his own labours burns; Whose curling flames most ghastly fiends do raise, Supplied with fuel from his impious plays; And when he fain would puff away the flame, One stops his mouth with bawdy Limberham; There, to augment the terrors of the place, His Hind and Panther stare him in the face; They grin like devils at the cursed toad, Who made [them] draw on earth so vile a load. Could some infernal painter draw the sight, And once transmit it to the realms of light, It might our poets from their sins affright; Or could they hear, how there the sons of verse In dismal yells their tortures do express; How scorched with ballads on the Stygian shore, They horrors in a dismal chorus roar; Or see how the laureate does his grandeur bear, Crowned with a wreath of flaming sulphur there. This, sir, 's your fate, cursed critics you oppose, The most tyrannical and cruel foes; Dryden, their huntsman dead, no more he wounds, But now you must engage his pack of hounds."

[50] According to Ward, his expressions were, "that he was an old man,and had not long to live by course of nature, and therefore did not careto part with one limb, at such an age, to preserve an uncomfortable lifeon the rest."--_London Spy_, Part xviii.

[51] "I come now from Mr. Dryden's funeral, where we had an Ode inHorace sung, instead of David's Psalms; whence you may find, that wedon't think a poet worth Christian burial. The pomp of the ceremony wasa kind of rhapsody, and fitter, I think, for Hudibras, than him; becausethe cavalcade was mostly burlesque: but he was an extraordinary man, andburied after an extraordinary fashion; for I do believe there was neversuch another burial seen. The oration, indeed, was great and ingenious,worthy the subject, and like the author; whose prescriptions can restorethe living, and his pen embalm the dead. And so much for Mr. Dryden;whose burial was the same as his life,--variety, and not of a piece:--the quality and mob, farce and heroics; the sublime and ridicule mixedin a piece;--great Cleopatra in a hackney coach."

[52] Those who wish to peruse this memorable romance may find it in vol.xviii. It was first published in Wilson's "Life of Congreve," 1730. Mr.Malone has successfully shown that it is false in almost all its parts;for, independently of the extreme improbability of the whole story, itis clear, from Ward's account, written at the time, that Lord Jefferies,who it is pretended interrupted the funeral, did, in fact, largelycontribute to it. This also appears from a paragraph, in a letter fromDoctor afterwards Bishop Tanner, dated May 6th, 1700, and thus given byMr. Malone:--"Mr. Dryden died a papist, if at all a Christian. Mr.Montague had given orders to bury him; but some lords (my Lord Dorset,Jefferies, etc.), thinking it would not be splendid enough, ordered himto be carried to Russel's: there he was embalmed; and now lies in stateat the Physicians' College, and is to be buried with Chaucer, Cowley,etc., at Westminster Abbey, on Monday next."--_MSS. Ballard. in Bibl.Bodl._ vol. iv. p. 29.

[53] The following lines are given by Mr. Malone as a specimen:--

"Before the hearse the mourning hautboys go, And screech a dismal sound of grief and woe: More dismal notes from bog-trotters may fall, More dismal plaints at Irish funeral; But no such floods of tears e'er stopped our tide, Since Charles, the martyr and the monarch, died. The decency and order first describe, Without regard to either sex or tribe. The sable coaches led the dismal van, But by their side, I think, few footmen ran; Nor needed these; the rabble fill the streets, And mob with mob in great disorder meets. See next the coaches, how they are accouter'd, Both in the inside, eke and on the outward: One p----y spark, one sound as any roach, One poet and two fiddlers in a coach: The playhouse drab, that beats the beggar's bush, * * * * * By everybody kissed, good truth,--but such is Now her good fate, to ride with mistress Duchess. Was e'er immortal poet thus buffooned! In a long line of coaches thus lampooned!"

[56] From "Epigrams on the Paintings of the most eminent Masters," byJ.E. (John Elsum), Esq., 8vo, 1700, Mr. Malone gives the followinglines:--

The Effigies of Mr. Dryden, by Closterman, _Epig_. clxiv.

"A sleepy eye he shows, and no sweet feature, Yet was indeed a favourite of nature: Endowed and graced with an exalted mind, With store of wit, and that of every kind. Juvenal's tartness, Horace's sweet air, With Virgil's force, in him concentered were. But though the painter's art can never show it, That his exemplar was so great a poet, Yet are the lines and tints so subtly wrought, You may perceive he was a man of thought. Closterman, 'tis confessed, has drawn him well, But short of Absalom and Achitophel."

[58] A correspondent of the Gentleman's Magazine, in 1745, alreadyquoted, says of him as a personal acquaintance: "Posterity is absolutelymistaken as to that great man: though forced to be a satirist, he wasthe mildest creature breathing, and the readiest to help the young anddeserving. Though his comedies are horribly full of _double entendre_,yet 'twas owing to a false complaisance. He was, in company, themodestest man that ever conversed."

[59] Letter to the author of "Reflections Historical and Political."4to, 1732.

[60] See vol. xi.; vol. xviii. From the poem in the passage last quoted,it seems that the original sign of Will's Coffee-house had been a _cow._It was changed however, to a _rose_, in Dryden's time. This wit'scoffeehouse was situated at the end of Bow-street, on the north side ofRussel-street, and frequented by all who made any pretence toliterature, or criticism. Their company, it would seem, was attendedwith more honour than profit; for Dennis describes William Envin, orUrwin, who kept the house, as taking refuge in White-friars, then aplace of asylum, to escape the clutches of his creditors. "For since thelaw," says the critic, "thought it just to put Will out of itsprotection, Will thought it but prudent to put himself out of itspower."

[61] See Appendix, vol. xviii.; vol. xi.

[62] The Dean of Peterborough. "I was," says he, "about seventeen, whenI first came to town; an odd-looking boy, with short rough hair, andthat sort of awkwardness which one always brings out of the country withone: however, in spite of my bashfulness and appearance, I used now andthen to thrust myself into Will's, to have the pleasure of seeing themost celebrated wits of that time, who used to resort thither. Thesecond time that ever I was there, Mr. Dryden was speaking of his ownthings, as he frequently did, especially of such as had been latelypublished. If anything of mine is good (says he), 'tis my Mac-Flecknoe;and I value myself the more on it, because it is the first piece ofridicule written in heroics.' Lockier overhearing this, plucked up hisspirit so far, as to say, in a voice just loud enough to be heard, thatMac-Flecknoe was a very fine poem, but that he had not imagined it to bethe first that ever was wrote that way. On this Dryden turned short uponhim, as surprised at his interposing; asked him how long he had been adealer in poetry; and added, with a smile,--'But pray, sir, what is it,that you did imagine to have been writ so before?' Lockier namedBoileau's Lutrin, and Tassoni's Secchia Rapita; which he had read, andknew Dryden had borrowed some strokes from each. ''Tis true,' saysDryden;--'I had forgot them.' A little after, Dryden went out, and ingoing spoke to Lockier again, and desired him to come to him the nextday. Lockier was highly delighted with the invitation, and was wellacquainted with him as long as he lived."--MALONE, vol. i. p. 481.

[63] "I have often heard," says Mr. George Russell, "that Mr. Dryden,dissatisfied and envious at the reputation Creech obtained by histranslation of Lucretius, purposely advised him to undertake Horace, towhich he knew him unequal, that he might by his ill performance lose thefame he had acquired. Mr. Southerne, author of 'Oroonoko,' set me rightas to the conduct of Mr. Dryden in this affair; affirming that, beingone evening at Mr. Dryden's lodgings, in company with Mr. Creech, andsome other ingenious men, Mr. Creech told the company of his design totranslate Horace; from which Mr. Dryden, with many arguments, dissuadedhim, as an attempt which his genius was not adapted to, and which wouldrisk his losing the good opinion the world had of him, by his successfultranslation of Lucretius. I thought it proper to acquaint you with thiscircumstance, since it rescues the fame of one of our greatest poetsfrom the imputation of envy and malevolence." See also, upon thissubject, a note in vol. viii. Yet Jacob Tonson told Spence, "that Drydenwould compliment Crowne when a play of his failed, but was cold to himif he met with success. He used sometimes to say, that Crowne had somegenius; but then he always added, that his father and Crowne's motherwere very well acquainted."--MALONE, vol. i. p. 500.

[64] His conversation is thus characterised by a contemporary writer:

"O, Sir, there's a medium in all things. Silence and chat are distantenough, to have a convenient discourse come between them; and thus far Iagree with you, that the company of the author of 'Absalom andAchitophel' is more valuable, though not so talkative, than that of themodern men of _banter_; for what he says is like what he writes, much tothe purpose, and full of mighty sense; and if the town were for anythingdesirable, it were for the conversation of him, and one or two more ofthe same character."--_The Humours and Conversation of the Town exposed,in two Dialogues_, 1693, p. 73

[65] [This story is probably as old as the first married pair of whomthe husband was studious. It certainly appears without names in the_Historiettes_ of Tallemant des Reaux, most of which were written fiveyears before Dryden's marriage.--ED]

[66] "When Dryden, our first great master of verse and harmony, broughthis play of 'Amphitryon' to the stage, I heard him give it his firstreading to the actors; in which, though it is true he delivered theplain sense of every period, yet the whole was in so cold, so flat, andunaffecting a manner, that I am afraid of not being believed, when Iaffirm it."--_Cibber's Apology_, 4to.

[67] [Transcriber's note: "See page 112" in original. This is to befound in Section III.]

[68] Vol. xviii.

[69] "I find (says Gildon) Mr. Bayes, the younger [Rowe], has twoqualities, like Mr. Bayes, the elder; his admiration of some odd books,as 'Reynard the Fox,' and the old ballads of 'Jane Shore,' etc."--_Remarks on Mr. Rome's Plays_. "Reynard the Fox" is also mentioned in"The Town and Country Mouse," as a favourite book of Dryden. AndAddison, in the 85th number of the Spectator, informs us, that Dorsetand Dryden delighted in perusing the collection of old ballads which thelatter possessed.

[70] Vol. xviii.

[71] It is now No. 43.

[72] Vol. vii.

[73] [The unfavourable accounts of Lady Elizabeth's temper aftermarriage are not much better founded than those of her maidenly orunmaidenly conduct before it. Dryden's supposed to almost all hiscontemporaries in _belles-lettres_. There is no sign in his letters ofany conjugal unhappiness, and Malone's "respectable authority" is familygossip a century after date.--ED.]

[74] [Transcriber's note: "P. 85" in original. This is to be found inSection II.]

[75] These are--1. Latin verses prefixed to Lord Roscommon's Essay onTranslated Verse. 2. Latin verses on the Death of Charles II., publishedin the Cambridge collection of Elegies on that occasion. 3. A poem inthe same language, upon Lord Arlington's Gardens, published in theSecond Miscellany. 4. A translation of the seventh Satire of Juvenal,mentioned in the text. 5. An English poem, on the Happiness of a RetiredLife. 6. A pretty song, printed by Mr. Malone, to which Charles Drydenalso composed music.

[76] The prologue was spoken by the ghosts of Shakespeare and Dryden;from which Mr. Malone selects the following curious quotation:--"Mr.Bevil Higgons, the writer of it, _ventured_ to make the representativeof our great dramatic poet speak these lines!--

"I long endeavoured to support the stage, With the faint copies of thy nobler rage, But toiled in vain for an ungenerous age. They starved me living, nay, denied me fame, And scarce, now dead, do justice to my name. Would you repent? Be to my ashes kind; Indulge the pledges I have left behind."--MALONE.

[77] [Transcriber's note: "Page 206, and vol. ix." in original. This isto be found in Section V.]

[78] Mr. Malone says, "Edward Dryden, the eldest son of the last SirErasmus Dryden, left by his wife, Elizabeth Allen, who died in London in1761, five sons; the youngest of whom, Bevil, was father of the presentLady Dryden. Sir John, the eldest, survived all his brothers, and diedwithout issue, at Canons-Ashby, March 20, 1770." [The subsequent historyof the family is as follows:--Elizabeth Dryden, the "present LadyDryden" referred to by Scott, married Mr. John Turner, to whom shecarried the estates. Mr. Turner assumed the name and arms of Dryden in1791, and was created a baronet four years later. The title and propertypassed successively to his two sons, and then to the son of the younger,the present Sir Henry Dryden, a distinguished archaeologist.--ED.]

SECTION VIII.

_The State of Dryden's Reputation at his Death, and afterwards--TheGeneral Character of his Mind--His Merit as a Dramatist--As a LyricalPoet---As a Satirist--As a Narrative Poet--As a Philosophical andMiscellaneous Poet--As a Translator--As a Prose Author--As a Critic._

If Dryden received but a slender share of the gifts of fortune, it wasamply made up to him in reputation. Even while a poet militant uponearth, he received no ordinary portion of that applause, which is toooften reserved for the "dull cold ear of death." He combated, it istrue, but he conquered; and, in despite of faction, civil and religious,of penury, and the contempt which follows it, of degrading patronage,and rejected solicitation, from 1666 to the year of his death, the nameof Dryden was first in English literature. Nor was his fame limited toBritain. Of the French literati, although Boileau,[1] with unworthyaffectation, when he heard of the honours paid to the poet's remains,pretended ignorance even of his name, yet Rapin, the famous critic,learned the English language on purpose to read the works of Dryden.[2]Sir John Shadwell, the son of our author's ancient adversary, bore anhonourable and manly testimony to the general regret among the men ofletters at Paris for the death of Dryden. "The men of letters herelament the loss of Mr. Dryden very much. The honours paid to him havedone our countrymen no small service; for, next to having soconsiderable a man of our own growth, 'tis a reputation to have knownhow to value him; as patrons very often pass for wits, by esteemingthose that are so." And from another authority we learn, that theengraved copies of Dryden's portrait were bought up with avidity on theContinent.[3]

But it was in England where the loss of Dryden was chiefly to be felt.It is seldom the extent of such a deprivation is understood, till it hastaken place; as the size of an object is best estimated, when we see thespace void which it had long occupied. The men of literature, startingas it were from a dream, began to heap commemorations, panegyrics, andelegies: the great were as much astonished at their own neglect of suchan object of bounty, as if the same had never been practised before; andexpressed as much compunction, as it were never to occur again. Thepoets were not silent; but their strains only evinced their wofuldegeneracy from him whom they mourned. Henry Playford, a publisher ofmusic, collected their effusions into a compilation, entitled, "LuctusBritannici, or the Tears of the British Muses, for the death of JohnDryden;" which he published about two months after Dryden's death.[4]Nine ladies, assuming each the character of a Muse, and clubbing afuneral ode, or elegy, produced "The Nine Muses;" of which very rare(and very worthless) collection, I have given a short account in theAppendix; where the reader will also find an ode on the same subject, byOldys, which may serve for ample specimen of the poetical lamentationsover Dryden.

The more costly, though equally unsubstantial, honour of a monument, wasprojected by Montague; and loud were the acclamations of the poets onhis generous forgiveness of past discords with Dryden, and themunificence of this universal patron. But Montague never accomplishedhis purpose, if he seriously entertained it. Pelham, Duke of Newcastle,announced the same intention; received the panegyric of Congreve forhaving done so; and having thus pocketed the applause, proceeded nofurther than Montague had done. At length Pope, in some lines which wererather an epitaph on Dryden, who lay in the vicinity, than on Rowe, overwhose tomb they were to be placed,[5] roused Dryden's original patron,Sheffield, formerly Earl of Mulgrave, and now Duke of Buckingham, toerect over the grave of his friend the present simple monument whichdistinguishes it. The inscription was comprised in the followingwords:--_J. Dryden. Natus 1632. Mortuus I Maii 1700. Joannes Sheffield,Duxx Buckinghamiensis posuit, 1720_.[6]

In the school of reformed English poetry, of which Dryden must beacknowledged as the founder, there soon arose disciples not unwilling tobe considered as the rivals of their muster. Addison had his partisans,who were desirous to hold him up in this point of view; and he himselfis said to have taken pleasure, with the assistance of Steele, todepreciate Dryden, whose fame was defended by Pope and Congreve. Noserious invasion of Dryden's pre-eminence can be said, however, to havetaken place, till Pope himself, refining upon that structure ofversification which our author had first introduced, and attending withsedulous diligence to improve every passage to the highest pitch ofpoint and harmony, exhibited a new style of composition, and claimed atleast to share with Dryden the sovereignty of Parnassus. I will notattempt to concentrate what Johnson has said upon this interestingcomparison:--

"In acquired knowledge, the superiority must be allowed to Dryden, whoseeducation was more scholastic, and who, before he became an author, hadbeen allowed more time for study, with better means of information. Hismind has a larger range, and he collects his images and illustrationsfrom a more extensive circumference of science. Dryden knew more of manin his general nature, and Pope in his local manners. The notions ofDryden were formed by comprehensive speculation, and those of Pope byminute attention. There is more dignity in the knowledge of Dryden, andmore certainty in that of Pope.

"Poetry was not the sole praise of either; for both excelled likewise inprose; but Pope did not borrow his prose from his predecessor. The styleof Dryden is capricious and varied, that of Pope is cautious anduniform. Dryden obeys the motions of his own mind, Pope constrains hismind to his own rules of composition. Dryden is sometimes vehement andrapid; Pope is always smooth, uniform, and gentle. Dryden's page is anatural field, rising into inequalities, and diversified by the variedexuberance of abundant vegetation; Pope's is a velvet lawn, shaven bythe scythe, and levelled by the roller.

"Of genius, that power which constitutes a poet; that quality, withoutwhich judgment is cold, and knowledge is inert; that energy, whichcollects, combines, amplifies, and animates; the superiority must, withsome hesitation, be allowed to Dryden. It is not to be inferred, that ofthis poetical vigour Pope had only a little, because Dryden had more;for every other writer, since Milton, must give place to Pope: and evenof Dryden it must be said, that if he has brighter paragraphs, he hasnot better poems. Dryden's performances were always hasty, eitherexcited by some external occasion, or extorted by domestic necessity; hecomposed without consideration, and published without correction. Whathis mind could supply at call, or gather in one excursion, was all thathe sought, and all that he gave. The dilatory caution of Pope enabledhim to condense his sentiments, to multiply his images, and toaccumulate all that study might produce, or chance might supply. If theflights of Dryden, therefore, are higher, Pope continues longer on thewing. If of Dryden's fire the blaze is brighter, of Pope the heat ismore regular and constant. Dryden often surpasses expectation, and Popenever falls below it. Dryden is read with frequent astonishment, andPope with perpetual delight."[7]

As the eighteenth century advanced, the difference between the styles ofthese celebrated authors became yet more manifest. It was then obvious,that though Pope's felicity of expression, his beautiful polish ofsentiment, and the occasional brilliancy of his wit, were not easilyimitated, yet many authors, by dint of a good ear, and a fluentexpression, learned to command the unaltered sweetness of his melody,which, like a favourite tune, when descended to hawkers andballad-singers, became disgusting as it became common. The admirers ofpoetry then reverted to the brave negligence of Dryden's versification,as, to use Johnson's simile, the eye, fatigued with the uniformity of alawn, seeks variety in the uncultivated glade or swelling mountain. Thepreference for which Dennis, asserting the cause of Dryden, had ravedand thundered in vain, began, by degrees, to be assigned to the elderbard; and many a poet sheltered his harsh verses and inequalities underan assertion that he belonged to the school of Dryden. Churchill--

"Who, born for the universe, narrowed his mind, And to party gave up what was meant for mankind,"--

Churchill was one of the first to seek in the "Mac-Flecknoe," the"Absalom," and "The Hind and Panther," authority for bitter and personalsarcasm, couched in masculine, though irregular versification, dashedfrom the pen without revision, and admitting occasional rude and flatpassages, to afford the author a spring to comparative elevation. Butimitation always approaches to caricature; and the powers of Churchillhave been unable to protect him from the oblivion into which his poemsare daily sinking, owing to the ephemeral interest of politicalsubjects, and his indolent negligence of severe study and regularity. Toimitate Dryden, it were well to study his merits, without venturing toadopt the negligences and harshness, which the hurry of his composition,and the comparative rudeness of his age, rendered in him excusable. Atleast, those who venture to sink as low, should be confident of thepower of soaring as high; for surely it is a rash attempt to dive,unless in one conscious of ability to swim. While the beauties of Drydenmay be fairly pointed out as an object of emulation, it is the lesspleasing, but not less necessary, duty of his biographer and editor, tonotice those deficiencies, which his high and venerable name may excuse,but cannot render proper objects of applause or imitation.

So much occasional criticism has been scattered in various placesthrough these volumes, that, while attempting the consideration of oneor two of his distinguishing and pre-eminent compositions, which havebeen intentionally reserved to illustrate a few pages of generalcriticism, I feel myself free from the difficult, and almostcontradictory task, of drawing my maxims and examples from the extendedcourse of his literary career.

My present task is limited to deducing his poetic character from thoseworks which he formed on his last and most approved model. The generaltone of his genius, however, influenced the whole course of hispublications; and upon that, however his taste, a few preliminarynotices may not be misplaced.

The distinguishing characteristic of Dryden's genius seems to have beenthe power of reasoning, and of expressing the result in appropriatelanguage.[8] This may seem slender praise; yet these were the talentsthat led Bacon into the recesses of philosophy, and conducted Newton tothe cabinet of nature. The prose works of Dryden bear repeated evidenceto his philosophical powers. His philosophy was not indeed of a formedand systematic character; for he is often contented to leave the path ofargument which must have conducted him to the fountain of truth, and toresort with indolence or indifference to the leaky cisterns which hadbeen hewn out by former critics. But where his pride or his taste areinterested, he shows evidently, that it was not want of the power ofsystematising, but of the time and patience necessary to form a system,which occasions the discrepancy that we often notice in his critical andphilological disquisitions. This power of ratiocination, ofinvestigating, discovering, and appreciating that which is reallyexcellent, if accompanied with the necessary command of fancifulillustration, and elegant expression, is the most interesting qualitywhich can be possessed by a poet. It must indeed have a share in thecomposition of everything that is truly estimable in the fine arts, aswell as in philosophy. Nothing is so easily attained as the power ofpresenting the extrinsic qualities of fine painting, fine music, or finepoetry; the beauty of colour and outline, the combination of notes, themelody of versification, may be imitated by artists of mediocrity; andmany will view, hear, or peruse their performances, without being ablepositively to discover why they should not, since composed according toall the rules, afford pleasure equal to those of Raphael, Handel, orDryden. The deficiency lies in the vivifying spirit, which, like_alcohol_, may be reduced to the same principle in all, though itassumes such varied qualities from the mode in which it is exerted orcombined. Of this power of intellect, Dryden seems to have possessedalmost an exuberant share, combined, as usual, with the faculty ofcorrecting his own conceptions, by observing human nature, the practicaland experimental philosophy as well of poetry as of ethics or physics.The early habits of Dryden's education and poetical studies gave hisresearches somewhat too much of a metaphysical character; and it was aconsequence of his mental acuteness, that his dramatic personages oftenphilosophised or reasoned, when they ought only to have felt. The morelofty, the fiercer, the more ambitious feelings, seem also to have beenhis favourite studies. Perhaps the analytical mode in which he exercisedhis studies of human life tended to confine his observation to the moreenergetic feelings of pride, anger, ambition, and other high-tonedpassions. He that mixes in public life must see enough of these stormyconvulsions; but the finer and more imperceptible operations of love, inits sentimental modifications, if the heart of the author does notsupply an example from its own feelings, cannot easily be studied at theexpense of others. Dryden's bosom, it must be owned, seems to haveafforded him no such means of information; the licence of his age, andperhaps the advanced period at which he commenced his literary career,had probably armed him against this more exalted strain of passion. Thelove of the senses he has in many places expressed, in as forcible anddignified colouring as the subject could admit; but of a mere moral andsentimental passion he seems to have had little idea, since hefrequently substitutes in its place the absurd, unnatural, andfictitious refinements of romance. In short, his love is always inindecorous nakedness, or sheathed in the stiff panoply of chivalry. Butif Dryden fails in expressing the milder and more tender passions, notonly did the stronger feelings of the heart, in all its dark or violentworkings, but the face of natural objects, and their operation upon thehuman mind, pass promptly in review at his command. External pictures,and their corresponding influence on the spectator, are equally ready athis summons; and though his poetry, from the nature of his subjects, isin general rather ethic and didactic, than narrative of composition,than his figures and his landscapes are presented to the mind with thesame vivacity as the flow of his reasoning, or the acute metaphysicaldiscrimination of his characters.

But the powers of observation and of deduction are not the onlyqualities essential to the poetical character. The philosopher mayindeed prosecute his experimental researches into the _arcana_ ofnature, and announce them to the public through the medium of a friendly_redacteur_, as the legislator of Israel obtained permission to speak tothe people by the voice of Aaron; but the poet has no such privilege;nay, his doom is so far capricious, that, though he may be possessed ofthe primary quality of poetical conception to the highest possibleextent, it is but like a lute without its strings, unless he has thesubordinate, though equally essential, power of expressing what he feelsand conceives, in appropriate and harmonious language. With this powerDryden's poetry was gifted in a degree, surpassing in modulated harmonythat of all who had preceded him, and inferior to none that has sincewritten English verse. He first showed that the English language wascapable of uniting smoothness and strength. The hobbling verses of hispredecessors were abandoned even by the lowest versifiers; and by theforce of his precept and example, the meanest lampooners of the yearseventeen hundred wrote smoother lines than Donne and Cowley, the chiefpoets of the earlier half of the seventeenth century. What was said ofRome adorned by Augustus, has been, by Johnson, applied to Englishpoetry improved by Dryden; that he found it of brick, and left it ofmarble. This reformation was not merely the effect of an excellent ear,and a superlative command of gratifying it by sounding language; it was,we have seen, the effect of close, accurate, and continued study of thepower of the English tongue. Upon what principles he adopted andcontinued his system of versification, he long meditated to communicatein his projected prosody of English poetry. The work, however, mighthave been more curious than useful, as there would have been some dangerof its diverting the attention, and misguiding the efforts of poeticaladventurers; for as it is more easy to be masons than architects, we maydeprecate an art which might teach the world to value those who canbuild rhymes, without attending to the more essential qualities ofpoetry. Strict attention might no doubt discover the principle ofDryden's versification; but it seems no more essential to the analysinghis poetry, than the principles of mathematics to understanding music,although the art necessarily depends on them. The extent in which Drydenreformed our poetry, is most readily proved by an appeal to the ear; andDr. Johnson has forcibly stated, that "he knew how to choose the flowingand the sonorous words; to vary the pauses and adjust the accents; todiversify the cadence, and yet preserve the smoothness of the metre." Tovary the English hexameter, he established the use of the triplet andAlexandrine. Though ridiculed by Swift, who vainly thought he hadexploded them for ever, their force is still acknowledged in classicalpoetry.

Of the various kinds of poetry which Dryden occasionally practised, thedrama was that which, until the last six years of his life, he chieflyrelied on for support. His style of tragedy, we have seen, varied withhis improved taste, perhaps with the change of manners. Although theheroic drama, as we have described it at length in the preceding pages,presented the strongest temptation to the exercise of argumentativepoetry in sounding rhyme, Dryden was at length contented to abandon itfor the more pure and chaste style of tragedy, which professes ratherthe representation of human beings, than the creation of idealperfection, or fantastic and anomalous characters. The best of Dryden'sperformances in this latter style, are unquestionably "Don Sebastian,"and "All for Love." Of these, the former is in the poet's very bestmanner; exhibiting dramatic persons, consisting of such bold andimpetuous characters as he delighted to draw, well contrasted, forciblymarked, and engaged in an interesting succession of events. To manytempers, the scene between Sebastian and Dorax must appear one of themost moving that ever adorned the British stage. Of "All for Love," wemay say, that it is successful in a softer style of painting; and thatso far as sweet and beautiful versification, elegant language, andoccasional tenderness, can make amends for Dryden's deficiencies indescribing the delicacies of sentimental passion, they are to be foundin abundance in that piece. But on these, and on the poet's othertragedies, we have enlarged in our preliminary notices prefixed to eachpiece.

Dryden's comedies, besides being stained with the licence of the age (alicence which he seems to use as much from necessity as choice), have,generally speaking, a certain heaviness of character. There are manyflashes of wit; but the author has beaten his flint hard ere he struckthem out. It is almost essential to the success of a jest, that itshould at least seem to be extemporaneous. If we espy the joke at adistance, nay, if without seeing it we have the least reason to suspectwe are travelling towards one, it is astonishing how the perverseobstinacy of our nature delights to refuse it currency. When, therefore,as is often the case in Dryden's comedies, two persons remain on thestage for no obvious purpose but to say good things, it is no wonderthey receive but little thanks from an ungrateful audience. Theincidents, therefore, and the characters, ought to be comic; but actualjests, or _bon mots_, should be rarely introduced, and then naturally,easily, without an appearance of premeditation, and bearing a strictconformity to the character of the person who utters them. Comicsituation Dryden did not greatly study; indeed I hardly recollect any,unless in the closing scene of "The Spanish Friar," which indicates anypeculiar felicity of invention. For comic character, he is usuallycontented to paint a generic representative of a certain class of men orwomen; a Father Dominic, for example, or a Melantha, with all theattributes of their calling and manners, strongly and divertinglyportrayed, but without any individuality of character. It is probablethat, with these deficiencies, he felt the truth of his ownacknowledgment, and that he was forced upon composing comedies togratify the taste of the age, while the bent of his genius was otherwisedirected.

In lyrical poetry, Dryden must be allowed to have no equal. "Alexander'sFeast" is sufficient to show his supremacy in that brilliant department.In this exquisite production, he flung from him all the trappings withwhich his contemporaries had embarrassed the ode. The language, loftyand striking as the ideas are, is equally simple and harmonious; withoutfar-fetched allusions, or epithets, or metaphors, the story is told asintelligibly as if it had been in the most humble prose. The change oftone in the harp of Timotheus, regulates the measure and the melody, andthe language of every stanza. The hearer, while he is led on by thesuccessive changes, experiences almost the feelings of the Macedonianand his peers; nor is the splendid poem disgraced by one word or lineunworthy of it, unless we join in the severe criticism of Dr. Johnson,on the concluding stanzas. It is true, that the praise of St. Cecilia israther abruptly introduced as a conclusion to the account of the Feastof Alexander; and it is also true, that the comparison,

"He raised a mortal to the sky, She drew an angel down,"

is inaccurate, since the feat of Timotheus was metaphorical, and that ofCecilia literal. But, while we stoop to such criticism, we seek forblots in the sun.

Of Dryden's other pindarics, some, as the celebrated "Ode to the Memoryof Mrs. Killigrew," are mixed with the leaven of Cowley; others, likethe "_Threnodia Augustalis_," are occasionally flat and heavy. Allcontain passages of brilliancy, and all are thrown into a versification,melodious amidst its irregularity. We listen for the completion ofDryden's stanza, as for the explication of a difficult passage in music;and wild and lost as the sound appears, the ear is proportionallygratified by the unexpected ease with which harmony is extracted fromdiscord and confusion.

The satirical powers of Dryden were of the highest order. He draws hisarrow to the head, and dismisses it straight upon his object of aim. Inthis walk he wrought almost as great a reformation as upon versificationin general; as will plainly appear, if we consider, that the satire,before Dryden's time, bore the same reference to "Absalom andAchitophel," which an ode of Cowley bears to "Alexander's Feast." Butlerand his imitators had adopted a metaphysical satire, as the poets in theearlier part of the century had created a metaphysical vein of seriouspoetry.[9] Both required store of learning to supply the perpetualexpenditure of extraordinary and far-fetched illustration; the object ofboth was to combine and hunt down the strangest and most fancifulanalogies; and both held the attention of the reader perpetually on thestretch, to keep up with the meaning of the author. There can be nodoubt, that this metaphysical vein was much better fitted for theburlesque than the sublime. Yet the perpetual scintillation of Butler'swit is too dazzling to be delightful; and we can seldom read far in"Hudibras" without feeling more fatigue than pleasure. His fancy isemployed with the profusion of a spendthrift, by whose eternal round ofbanqueting his guests are at length rather wearied out than regaled.Dryden was destined to correct this, among other errors of his age; toshow the difference between burlesque and satire; and to teach hissuccessors in that species of assault, rather to thrust than to flourishwith their weapon. For this purpose he avoided the unvaried andunrelieved style of grotesque description and combination, which hadbeen fashionable since the satires of Cleveland and Butler. To renderthe objects of his satire hateful and contemptible, he thought itnecessary to preserve the lighter shades of character, if not for thepurpose of softening the portrait, at least for that of preserving thelikeness. While Dryden seized, and dwelt upon, and aggravated, all theevil features of his subject, he carefully retained just as much of itslaudable traits as preserved him from the charge of want of candour, andfixed down the resemblance upon the party. And thus, instead ofunmeaning caricatures, he presents portraits which cannot be mistaken,however unfavourable ideas they may convey of the originals. Thecharacter of Shaftesbury, both as Achitophel, and as drawn in "TheMedal," bears peculiar witness to this assertion. While other courtpoets endeavoured to turn the obnoxious statesman into ridicule onaccount of his personal infirmities and extravagances, Dryden boldlyconfers upon him all the praise for talent and for genius that hisfriends could have claimed, and trusts to the force of his satiricalexpression for working up even these admirable attributes with such amixture of evil propensities and dangerous qualities, that the wholecharacter shall appear dreadful, and even hateful, but not contemptible.But where a character of less note, a Shadwell or a Settle, crossed hispath, the satirist did not lay himself under these restraints, but wrotein the language of bitter irony and immeasurable contempt: even then,however, we are less called on to admire the wit of the author, than theforce and energy of his poetical philippic. These are the verses whichare made by indignation, and, no more than theatrical scenes of realpassion, admit of refined and protracted turns of wit, or even thelighter sallies of humour. These last ornaments are proper in thatHoratian satire, which rather ridicules the follies of the age, thanstigmatises the vices of individuals; but in this style Dryden has madefew essays. He entered the field as champion of a political party, or asdefender of his own reputation; discriminated his antagonists, andapplied the scourge with all the vehemence of Juvenal. As he has himselfsaid of that satirist, "his provocations were great, and he has revengedthem tragically." This is the more worthy of notice, as, in the Essayon Satire, Dryden gives a decided preference to those nicer and moredelicate touches of satire, which consist in fine raillery. But whateverwas the opinion of his cooler moments, the poet's practice was dictatedby the furious party-spirit of the times, and the no less keenstimulative of personal resentment. It is perhaps to be regretted, thatso much energy of thought, and so much force of expression, should havebeen wasted in anatomising such criminals as Shadwell and Settle; yet wecannot account the amber less precious, because they are grubs and fliesthat are enclosed within it.

The "Fables" of Dryden are the best examples of his talents as anarrative poet; those powers of composition, description, and narration,which must have been called into exercise by the Epic Muse, had his fateallowed him to enlist among her votaries. The "Knight's Tale," thelongest and most laboured of Chaucer's stories, possesses a degree ofregularity which might satisfy the most severe critic. It is true, thatthe honour arising from thence must be assigned to the more ancientbard, who had himself drawn his subject from an Italian model; but thehigh and decided preference which Dryden has given to this story,although somewhat censured by Trapp, enables us to judge how much thepoet held an accurate combination of parts, and coherence of narrative,essentials of epic poetry.[10] That a classic scholar like Trapp shouldthink the plan of the "Knight's Tale" equal to that of the Iliad, is adegree of candour not to be hoped for; but surely to an unprejudicedreader, a story which exhausts in its conclusion all the interest whichit has excited in its progress, which, when terminated, leaves noquestion to be asked, no personage undisposed of, and no curiosityunsatisfied, is, abstractedly considered, more gratifying than thehistory of a few weeks of a ten years' war, commencing long after thesiege had begun, and ending long before the city was taken. Of the othertales, it can hardly be said that their texture is more ingenious orclosely woven than that of ordinary novels or fables: but in each ofthem Dryden has displayed the superiority of his genius, in selectingfor amplification and ornament those passages most susceptible ofpoetical description. The account of the procession of the FairyChivalry in the "Flower and the Leaf;" the splendid description of thechampions who came to assist at the tournament in the "Knight's Tale;"the account of the battle itself, its alternations and issue,--if theycannot be called improvements on Chaucer, are nevertheless so spirited atransfusion of his ideas into modern verse, as almost to claim the meritof originality. Many passages might be shown in which this praise may becarried still higher, and the merit of invention added to that ofimitation. Such is the description of the commencement of the tourney,which is almost entirely original, and most of the ornaments in thetranslations from Boccacio, whose prose fictions demanded more additionsfrom the poet than the exuberant imagery of Chaucer. To select instanceswould be endless; but every reader of poetry has by heart thedescription of Iphigenia asleep, nor are the lines in "Theodore andHonoria,"[11] which describe the approach of the apparition, and itseffects upon animated and inanimated nature even before it becomesvisible, less eminent for beauties of the terrific order:

"While listening to the murmuring leaves he stood,More than a mile immersed within the wood,At once the wind was laid; the whispering soundWas dumb; a rising earthquake rocked the ground;With deeper brown the grove was overspread,A sudden horror seized his giddy head,And his ears tingled, and his colour fled,Nature was in alarm; some danger nighSeemed threatened, though unseen to mortal eye."

It may be doubted, however, whether the simplicity of Boccacio'snarrative has not sometimes suffered by the additional decorations ofDryden. The retort of Guiscard to Tancred's charge of ingratitude ismore sublime in the Italian original,[12] than as diluted by the Englishpoet into five hexameters. A worse fault occurs in the whole colouringof Sigismonda's passion, to which Dryden has given a coarse andindelicate character, which he did not derive from Boccacio. In likemanner, the plea used by Palamon in his prayer to Venus, is more nakedlyexpressed by Dryden than by Chaucer. The former, indeed, would probablyhave sheltered himself under the mantle of Lucretius; but he should haverecollected, that Palamon speaks the language of chivalry, and oughtnot, to use an expression of Lord Herbert, to have spoken like a_paillard_, but a _cavalier_. Indeed, we have before noticed it as themost obvious and most degrading imperfection of Dryden's poeticalimagination, that he could not refine that passion, which, of allothers, is susceptible either of the purest refinement, or of admittingthe basest alloy. With Chaucer, Dryden's task was more easy than withBoccacio. Barrenness was not the fault of the Father of English poetry;and amid the profusion of images which he presented, his imitator hadonly the task of rejecting or selecting. In the sublime description ofthe temple of Mars, painted around with all the misfortunes ascribed tothe influence of his planet, it would be difficult to point out a singleidea, which is not found in the older poem. But Dryden has judiciouslyomitted or softened some degrading and some disgusting circumstances; asthe "cook scalded in spite of his long ladle," the "swine devouring thecradled infant," the "pickpurse," and other circumstances too grotesqueor ludicrous to harmonise with the dreadful group around them. Somepoints, also, of sublimity, have escaped the modern poet. Such is theappropriate and picturesque accompaniment of the statue of Mars:--

"A wolf stood before him at his feet, With eyen red, and of a man he eat."[13]

In the dialogue, or argumentative parts of the poem, Dryden hasfrequently improved on his original, while he falls something short ofhim in simple description, or in pathetic effect. Thus, the quarrelbetween Arcite and Palamon is wrought up with greater energy by Drydenthan Chaucer, particularly by the addition of the following lines,describing the enmity of the captives against each other:--

"Now friends no more, nor walking hand in hand, But when they met, they made a surly stand, And glared like angry lions as they passed, And wished that every look might be their last."

But the modern must yield the palm, despite the beauty of hisversification, to the description of Emily by Chaucer; and may be justlyaccused of loading the dying speech of Arcite with conceits for whichhis original gave no authority.[14]

When the story is of a light and ludicrous kind, as the Fable of theCock and Fox, and the Wife of Bath's Tale, Dryden displays all thehumorous expression of his satirical poetry, without its personality.There is indeed a quaint Cervantic gravity in his mode of expressinghimself, that often glances forth, and enlivens what otherwise would bemere dry narrative. Thus, he details certain things which passed,

"While Cynion was _endeavouring_ to be wise;"

the force of which single word contains both a ludicrous and appropriatepicture of the revolution which the force of love was gradually creatingin the mind of the poor clown. This tone of expression he perhapsborrowed from Ariosto, and other poets of Italian chivalry, who arewont, ever and anon, to raise the mask, and smile even at the romantictale they are themselves telling.

Leaving these desultory reflections on Dryden's powers of narrative, Icannot but notice, that, from haste or negligence, he has sometimesmistaken the sense of his author. Into the hands of the champions in"The Flower and the Leaf," he has placed _bows_ instead of _boughs_,because the word is in the original spelled _bowes_; and, having madethe error, he immediately devises an explanation of the device which hehad mistaken:--

"For bows the strength of brawny arms imply, Emblems of valour, and of victory."

He has, in like manner, accused Chaucer of introducing Gallicisms intothe English language; not aware that French was the language of thecourt of England not long before Chaucer's time, and, that, far fromintroducing French phrases into the English tongue, the ancient bard wassuccessfully active in introducing the English as a fashionable dialect,instead of the French, which had, before his time, been the only